


A Place to Cast a Stone

by Tabithian



Series: Cities in Dust [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Destiny (Video Game), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6049006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Oryx situation happens- and that's how everyone refers to it - <i>The Oryx Situation</i> – things change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place to Cast a Stone

**Author's Note:**

> *hands*

When the Oryx situation happens- and that's how everyone refers to it - _The Oryx Situation_ – things change.

Not the way it did when Eris came to the City to warn them about Crota, or when The Queen put out her call for aid.

No, this is something different.

The Vanguard tries to keep things quiet, and they succeed. (For a few hours, but the Tower is full of Guardians and Outfitters and all kinds of nosy bastards.)

News spreads like wildfire at the Tower, trickles slowly down into the City below despite everyone's best efforts.

It's one thing for the Guardians to know, people who can and will head out to face this new threat head-on, another entirely to add to the fear that's never really left the people depending on them.

Dick steps down as Bruce's second, and no one seems to know where he's gone.

Roy and Kory both disappear not too long afterward, once news of Oryx's arrival into the system and the battle over Saturn becomes open knowledge. More than hushed whispers in the dark corners of a bar.

Jason listens to the messages they leave him, and it's not fear or worry because if anyone can handle this new mess they've all found themselves in, it's them.

“Jason?”

Jason breathes out, long and slow, and forces himself to unclench his hands. Turns to where his gear is waiting.

“Cayde has a mission for us, doesn't he?”

Even with Oryx and his fleet out there are still threats closer to home to worry about. 

Fallen, Hive, Vex, and Cabal, more desperate than ever with the Taken forces out there preying on them as much as the Guardians.

Someone has to keep them in check, and Jason's not too bad with a gun.

********

Jason hears, in bits and pieces, what happens over the next little while. Rumors and gossip, mostly, although he gets Tim to do a little harmless hacking when he needs a little...clarification on things.

Hears about the Guardians who had a hand in killing Crota being sent on new, special missions from the Vanguard with Eris offering advice, counsel.

Sees them at a distance when he's out on patrol or running missions for the Vanguard.

Wishes them all the luck in the world, worlds, because this, Oryx and his forces are like nothing any of them have ever faced before.

Jason's gone up against some Taken forces on patrol, little bands of them that pop up out of nowhere. Wreak havoc, like they're searching for something before vanishing like smoke in the wind.

They're easy enough to take down, if you know how. If you listen to that distinctive sound of one of the Taken Goblins shielding their comrades in arms, making them impervious to damage, injury, you know where to look to put an end to that little line of bullshit real fast.

He fucking hates all of the Taken forces.

Has a special place in his hate for them just for the Phalanxes who keep trying to shove him off things or _into them_ with the arc blasts from their shields. The damn Psions who keep multiplying even as he works to thin out their numbers. Oh, and Christ, can't forget the Centurions with their damn Axion Darts.

And maybe Jason's special dislike for the Taken Cabal is just an extension for his overall dislike of Mars and the Cabal forces embedded there, but that's not really the point.

The point is Jason hates having to face them.

Hates the way the Taken Hobgoblins always have this lovely parting gift for him after he drops one of them, the way the Taken Acolyte's will set up one of their Eyes if he doesn't take them out fast enough. Hates having to face down a pack of Shadow Thralls down in the Hive tunnels where they're harder to pick out in the gloom.

Tricky little fuckers, all of them, but nothing a seasoned Guardian can't handle.

“Overconfident,” Tim hums, twirling down past Jason to study the blackened spot on the ground where Jason just killed a Shadow Thrall. 

Jason shrugs, tries not to wince where the damn thing got a good strike in. “No such thing.”

Tim turns to face him, floating a little higher to put them on eye level. 

Or, whatever passes for what Tim has.

“Overconfident,” he repeats, flashes a little beam of light over the gouge in Jason's chestplate. “You're going to have to replace that, by the way.”

Jason grimaces, because the little shit's not wrong on that last part.

“You have what you need?” Jason asks, toeing aside what looks like a human femur with bite marks, and tries not to thing too hard about it. (The Hive have always been unsettling to him.) 

Tim nods, this little dip and flicker of light. “Yes.”

Jason nods. “Then let's get the fuck out of here.”

********

Guardians are like gossipy little biddies. Always eager and willing to tell stories, spread rumors.

Usually some story of high adventure coming out of one of the planets. Some mission or strike or just a patrol that got out of hand. Exaggerated, a lot of it, but there are kernels of truth in there too.

The kind about the fireteam of six – Guardians from different clans - who'd joined together to venture deep into the Vault of Glass on Venus. Another fireteam who went down into the Hive's pit on the moon and faced Crota, giving Eris some small peace of mind.

The same six idiots who drew Oryx to their system, and went out to meet Oryx in his home dimension and good God, they're all just so fucking stupid.

“I agree,” Bruce says, tapping his fingers, like he wasn't one of the ones in the Vault.

Jason sighs, leaning back in his chair to look at Bruce.

He's been quiet – quieter – since Dick took his fireteam and headed out to the Dreadnought.

“You really think Oryx stands a chance against him and the others, though? I mean. You've seen them in action.”

Jason's only seen Roy and Kory in battle in person, but Tim had managed to talk Damian into sharing footage of some of Dick's earlier exploits before he became Bruce's second in leading the clan.

Impressive is an understatement, and he knows Bruce had a hand in training Dick himself, when he was still new at this Guardian business.

Bruce.

It's hard, to read an Exo, but Bruce.

He's the exception to a lot of things.

There's amusement, worry. Concern, but over all that?

Confidence, faith.

“I think,” Bruce says, contemplative, “Oryx is going to regret venturing into this system.”

Jason snorts because, yeah, just a bit.

********

Jason's on one of the Vanguard's strikes, pair of rookies with him because they needed the experience and Bruce asked instead of making it an order. 

They're good kids, and Jason means kids. 

This pair of humans somewhere in their late teens, no older, if Jason's any judge. (Gets this sick little swoop in his stomach when stops to think about it. How young they were when they died that first time.)

Good, but so damn green and no one, not even Bruce, expected this strike to go sour like this.

The rest of his fireteam is down, and Jason can't get to them for a resurrection with a pack of Cabal closing in on him. 

They should be back in action soon, their own ghosts hovering over them, but until then Jason needs to buy them time or they're all fucked.

Just enough time to resurrect and get out of this Darkness Zone to somewhere they can transmat back up to their ships. Get a call out to the City, bring in a better prepared – experienced – fireteam. 

Problem is, Jason's got a handful of bullets on him and he just used his last throwing knife to gain a little breathing room.

In all honesty, things aren't looking that great when a goddamned _purple arrow_ flies past him.

He has no idea what the hell is going on, but the pack Cabal are being anchored in place, still moving but slow, sluggish. Given the fact that he was looking at another resurrection a moment earlier, Jason wastes no time in taking advantage of this opportunity.

Throws himself forward to avoid the downward sweep of an armored Cabal arm and comes up shooting.

Headshots every damn time and the sweet, sweet sound of the seals rupturing on the Cabal helmets, black oil spraying everywhere.

There's this sound, metal striking metal that resonates in his bones like a knell of doom, and then he sees fucking flaming hammers spinning by to deal with the Cabal reinforcements rushing in. A figure encased in golden Light and _fire_ striding past.

Jason turns to watch, but they clearly have things in hand and when he looks back the direction that arrow came from sees a figure sliding down a dune making his way towards him.

Like the Titan, this Hunter's decked head to toe in armor Jason's never seen before.

Hard to tell what the Titan's armor looks like under the force of their super, but the Hunter's armor is this rich, vibrant green that would fit in perfectly in Venus' jungles. Leaves of some sort tucked here and there, and netting draped over one shoulder and across the chestplate. 

The Hunter slows to a stop a few feet away, cocking his head at Jason. “What is it with you and Cabal anyway?” 

Jason stares.

“Roy?”

“Miss us?” Roy asks, so damn cocky.

Jason can hear the fucker's grin, picture it in his mind as Roy slings his scout rifle over his shoulder and crosses the remaining distance to drag Jason into a hug. Pounds him so hard on the back Jason can feel it through his armor.

“Hey, Jaybird,” he says, tired, quietly pleased. “We're back.”

Jason scowls, reflex, and twists out of Roy's hold to look over where the Titan is devastating the remaining Cabal forces, rookie Guardians looking on in awe.

No wonder, really, because _Kory_.

“What the hell happened?”

Roy shrugs, slings an arm around Jason's shoulder and tugs him over to where Kory is giving the Cabal no mercy.

“Oh, Jaybird, have we got a story to tell you.”

********

Roy has his arms around Jason and Kory's shoulders, more than a little drunk and at the point where everything is just so damn hilarious, cheeks flushed, smile wide and goofy.

He's been doing his best to turn the three of them into a bad joke all damn night, after he and Kory spilled the whole damn story to Jason.

Phobos, the Cosmodrome, weird little _quests_ to Venus and Mercury, for Cayde and Zavala, respectively. Everything that followed after, including sending Oryx packing for the time being.

(Oryx isn't quite dead yet, but it's only a matter of time before they figure out how to fix that little problem.)

Roy chuckles to himself, like he thinks he's finally figured out the perfect joke.

Jason blames it being a matter of Roy being in close proximity with Dick for weeks, like the worst kind of osmosis. 

Or. 

Something, anyway. Science was never Jason's thing.

Jason meets Kory's eyes over Roy's head and can't help the way his mouth twitches upwards at the open amusement and fondness on her face, because _these two_.

“Okay, okay,” Roy says, slurring slightly, tugging Jason and Kory closer. “A Gunslinger, a Nightstalker, and a Sunbreaker walk into a bar - “


End file.
